a false sense of security

i’ll admit it.

i have come to a point in my life that i like security.

i like the feeling of being held.

i like the feeling of knowing i am not going to fall.

i like just knowing that i am held in all the right places to make me feel good.

and who causes all these things to happen?

this:that’s right hanes girdle for women size medium.

i don’t wear it all the time.

just when i need that little extra hug to make it through my day.

just when the fall-out is hanging over the top of my pants.

just when the thought of yoga or any other form of excercise is not appealing.

and just when the one more cookie was just that one more that was one more too much.

here is where the false sense of security kicks in.

when wearing the said wonder-garment,

i think i am that trim and held in.

i eat accordingly.

then it is time to take off my security.

it is like a trailer court after a hurricane.

me with the look of shocked disbelief and my stomach needing some work from the ground up.

the only beef i have with my false sense of security is the models they use to sell this false sense of security

does this person really look like then need one?that is an easy answer.

i need to know it is really going to work:

things i learned while driving through the night

1. if you eat 12 rice cakes in the attempt to stay awake, the rice actually swells up and makes you feel like a left-out-to-long bowl of kashi cereal; bloated and not smellin’ real great.2. the same stretch of montana freeway is ALWAYS under construction with no real evidence of work or improvement being done.

3. in close quarters, my family stinks…..badly.

4. the body is not meant to start eating in the morning, continue through afternoon, then evening, then through the night. it turns out it does need a rest from food.

5. driving through the night 2 out of the last 3 nights will actually leave a mark.

6. that mark is my lack of peeing on the side of the freeway skills. no photos or explanation will be given.

family

i have found that i need to write.

i need to get these thoughts and feelings out of my psyche so that the very real ache of something/someone/some entity that is sitting on my chest, in my memory, and in the back of my throat that is threatening to burst out in tears if let alone too long, leaves me.

today is the first time in a very long time that all six of the creations called the reneer children have been together.

the last time we got together was an ‘intervention’ for dad about his smoking.

it was not successful.

in other words, we totally would not have a show on cable.

as we sat through the services i noticed none of us were crying.

there were tears in our eyes, but we were not crying.

then we followed my sister to the graveside to bury her husband.

my two sisters and i stood together a ways behind jenn.

my two brothers stood to her side a ways away.

none of us took our eyes off our sister.

when the final strain of the song ended and the graveside dedicated we continued to watch our sister from afar.

that is when we cried.

i don’t doubt for one second that the rest of my siblings felt the exact same as i did in wishing i could take every ounce of grief from her.

we saw our sister, in her absolute grief, realizing that this is not a journey we could travel with her.

that is her story,

her feelings,

her life to live.

we could, however, continue to watch; watch, and almost will our love to her to hold her up.

we could stand and pretend we did not see the other with tears running down their cheeks.

we could go up to our sister and hug her and joke with her.

we can not see each other all together for years and come together as if we had not been apart for a day.

we grew up together.

we know each other in a way no other person on earth can.

we have tormented each other in a way no other person on earth has.

we can love each other in a way only brothers and sisters can.

and nothing brings home that  point more until one of us truly needs the rest of us.

when that happens,

there is no doubt in any of our minds that we will always be there.

a charmed life

you know what?

i have lived a very charmed life.

sure i have had a few episodes of road rash both literally and figuratively, and i have lost some teeth along the way AND i have carlos as a brother.

but really?

a very charmed life.

these past few days i have learned quite a bit about things.

i learned that mourning is what we do for the living.

dan is better, and in a far more beautiful place than we can imagine.

it is those left behind that we mourn for.

i did not know this.

and that is the indicator i am using to measure my life.

so class, let’s recap:

even with carlos as my brother (who, although turned into a very respectable human, there were moments of extreme doubt in the growing years) i will take my life.

in fact,

i would take it as a do-over and most likely not do anything different.

ok,  maybe i would take that job at Shriner’s hospital over being a nanny in the next go-around. (what was i thinking!?)

we are heading on the road this afternoon so i will be pleasantly silent for all your listening eyes.

i would like to turn your listening eyes into hearing eyes.

enjoy

you just don’t see it

when we took keats’ home from the hospital right after he was born, i sat in the back seat with him in his car seat hovered over him.

i could not BELIEVE people were speeding by our car.

did they not know that the most earth-shattering, life-changing event was sitting right next to me?

how could they possibly go about their normal life when mine had altered so un-alter-ably (yes a word in my world)?

mark felt the same way when chicka was born.

he looked out the hospital window and watched people walk by or driving on the road and wanted to shout:

“PEOPLE!? DON’T YOU SEE THE WORLD HAS CHANGED?! SHOULD YOU NOT FEEL IT TOO?!”

but it was our normal that was changing,  changing in a way that would make it never be the same again.

it is like a sandstormthe whole landscape has been thrown in a tizzy.

it is altered forever.

yet, to the person walking by after the sandstorm,

the landscape looks the exact same as it did before the storm.

only the particles of sand that were thrown around and changed forever truly know that something massive happened in their lives.

yes, something massive happened in my sister’s life.

yes, her and her children’s life is forever altered.

no, we will not feel it as they do, we still have our ‘normal’ lives that need to be lived.

their ‘normal’ has changed forever.

it is a helpless feeling to be away from my sister right now, to watch her life alter in a way i cannot imagine or even pretend to understand.

she is strong.

she is beautiful.

she is graceful.

she is jenn.

i know her new landscape that is just now settling will be beautiful and nourishing for her little family.

it is the hard work that goes into the finished work that she has to get through first.

dear jenn

my sister jenn and i have always been really closethe only time we have ever really fought was when she threw an ice ball right at my face from approximately 2″ away (distance is subject to impartiality)

i drew back my fist to throw my own ice ball punch, but fortunately our mother was there snapping photos for posterity.

the punch was never thrown.

we were stacking wood at the time and Jenn’s idea of stacking wood was taking one piece at a time and walking as slow as possible to the wood pile to stack it, then walking as slow as possible back to the wood pile to get another single piece of wood.

it took her about 62 minutes to stack one piece of wood.

(once again, time lapse is subject to impartiality)

last time we brought wood in for the homestead was just last year.

jenn still carries out one piece at a time, the whole tree now, on her shoulder,

uncut.

i think i followed her with a limb or something.

we are 21 months apart, so in sports during HS (especially x-country) we were each others stretching partners.

she was fantastic at x-country,

i was not.

we lived together right after she graduated.

i teased her mercilessly.

one day, her inner shera made a sudden appearance.and she threw me against the closet door and started pummeling me.

i laughed.

i still laugh when she puts the pummel on me

i have always been the older sister,

but somehow,

she has taken the role.

she has had to deal with things that make her suddenly older.

i love her.

she amuses me,

especially around a pile a jump ropes,

she trips every time.

or sprinting through safeway for 1/2 maple bars only to be beat by an old lady.

she still has hard feelings towards the geriatric.

alas,

she has found the ultimate revenge for all the teasing i have ever done to her.

one 15 passenger van,

10 kids between us,

her driving,

and throwing me in the back with the masses of our procreationkudos jenn,

you came up with the ultimate revenge.

i have proof

i have proof the hubby was excited to marry me.

here is our engagement picture:then i have proof of reality setting in when we got married.

this is the first picture taken of us after saying the “i do’s”

i would like to say it is the sun in his eyes, but we were in the shade:

i also have proof that he did actually like me, even if his look is dubious,

i was pregnant two weeks later.

on the night before our wedding, after i put the kids down, i went to get the ring boxes out for the next day.

the ring boxes were there,

but the rings were not.

“i can’t find the rings.” the hubby called me from the temple the next morning.

“what do you mean you can’t find the rings?” stomach dropping as the question proceeded.

“i took them out of the boxes so you would find the empty boxes as a joke and put them in my pocket and now i can’t find them!” panic raising in his voice as the explanation proceeded.

i should have been sad about the sentimentality of it all, losing the rings we shopped for together, but it was the money that made my stomach drop even more.

“we can just buy you another one, i don’t need one.” the hubby said.

“what?! i am not wearing a ring without you. we waited too long, we will both have rings.”

“i am so sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

this was a pretty good indicator as how our marriage would go.

strange things happen……a lot, but in the end they always work out.

just with a lot of detours.

the rings were found in the grass by his brother’s apartment complex.

the hubby had reached into his pocket to get the car keys and out came the rings with them.

we were married,

have been rather happily married,

and he still makes odd faces in picturesand my butt is decidedly bigger.